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Showing posts with label cockpit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cockpit. Show all posts

Monday, November 12, 2012

"Flight" The Movie - A Word To The Wise

I have conflicting emotions after seeing the movie Flight.  I enjoy movies about aviation, even though the consultants hired to make sure things are right and correct are either idiots, readily ignored or both.  Along the same vein, I have two brothers-in-law who are attorneys and neither one can stand to watch a single episode of Law and Order without stomping out of the room in disgust. I, on the other hand, enjoy the aviation aspect of  movies enough to overlook what seems so obviously wrong long enough to be entertained.

On a light note, I sincerely wish my MD80 had those sexy winglets.  As you are probably aware, there are a few inconsistencies with reality in this and just about any other movie about aviation...MD80s do not have winglets.  I've often said winglets are for wimps,  but that's only because I don't have them.

Seriously though, I am concerned by what I suspect will be an increasing trend of passengers asking pilots if they've been drinking on the job.  Lets be very clear...this is no joking matter.  Accusing a pilot of being under the influence, joking or not, is no different than joking about a bomb at airport security.

I don't necessarily think this applies to people interested enough in aviation to be reading my blog, but I strongly suspect most people have no idea what pilots do day in and day out.  I start my job the night before a trip by getting a good night's rest, because a tired, fatigued or sleep deprived pilot is no better than one who has been drinking.  After arriving at the airport, I spend about an hour researching weather along the route, reading any Notice to Airmen pertaining to the facilities I plan to use, researching the maintenance history of the aircraft and checking the accuracy and legality of the flight plan prepared for my flight by company dispatch.  By the time you see me walking onto the jet bridge, I'm already well prepared.

I am often asked if I actually do anything anymore.  (Picture my frown and furrowed brow.)  You know, with all the computers and everything, pilots just sit there and watch...right?

Have you heard?  New jet aircraft will be crewed by one pilot and a dog. 
The pilot is there to feed the dog...and the dog is there to bite the pilot if he touches anything.  

Even on the most automated aircraft, pilots still play a roll that cannot be replaced.  Many of us still hand fly everything but cruise flight because we enjoy it...and no one allows the jet to land itself unless the weather dictates otherwise.  Even with the autopilot engaged, we are there to intervene when things don't work properly and we're there to make decisions that no computer, no matter how good, can make without the sights, smells, sensations and experience of a professional pilot.  

If you're a regular follower of my ramblings, then you know I have a good sense of humor and that I've always found a healthy dose of self deprecating humor to be good for the soul.  But I can only take so much and I see no humor in being accused of flying while under the influence of anything.

People innocently poke their head into the cockpit as they board and ask some of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard.  Here are the three most common questions.  First, do you really know what all those buttons do?  This is an honest and harmless question and the answer is yes.  I know what all the switches do.  I also know how they interact with each other, how they are powered in case there's an electrical power interruption during flight and I know what happens and what to do if they don't work as designed.

The second question I hear the most is...did you get enough sleep last night?  This is also an honest and harmless question, but I usually lie and tell people that I'm perfectly fresh and rested.  The truth may be that I spent eight hours behind the door of a crappy hotel on a noisy street with some crazy couple having sex all night in the room next door.  The truth may be that I've already been on duty for 12 hours, worked four or five flights dodging thunderstorms all day, and that the FAA says I'm legal for up to 16 hours at the controls...but I don't think people want the truth and I'd probably get fired for giving it to them.

"You can't handle the truth!"

The third most common question I hear from passengers is playfully related to my sobriety.  The answer of course is that I haven't had a drink in at least 8 hours.  "Eight hours bottle to throttle."  That's the law.  For me personally, the answer is that I haven't had a drink in at least 12, but that's just my personal rule.  Many airlines and individual pilots agree with me on this and have policies that are at least as restrictive as mine.

I've already stated this, but it's important enough to say again.  Accusing a pilot of being under the influence, joking or not, is an action that will be taken seriously.  It is a criminal offence for a pilot to arrive at the airport with the intention of working a flight while under the influence of alcohol or any other drug.  He can and will be arrested even if he never sets foot on the actual airplane.  Flight  puts all this in the public eye.  The movie depicts an airline pilot acting in a criminal manner, and while the movie is intended as entertainment, it will no doubt generate negative attitudes and comments from passengers.

These comments, made in poor taste and judgement, will receive varied responses from flight crews.  It all depends on the crew member and their perceived seriousness of the accusation.  One pilot may elect to ignore the comment altogether.  Honestly, I've done this many times.  "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil."  Only once in my career have I ever interpreted such a comment as a true accusation.  In this case, the flight was delayed over an hour as I insisted on a drug and alcohol test before I would continue with my duties.  For the record, I hadn't had a drink in days.

The legal limit for pilots in the U.S. is .04% blood alcohol, half the .08% allowed in most states to manipulate the controls of an automobile.  I set my personal rule at 12 hours because there have been reports of pilots consuming high alcohol content drinks well outside the 8 hour window and still testing above the limit at duty time.  I want and you deserve the extra cushion.

So go ahead and enjoy the movie.  I know I did.  But understand that it's just a movie and don't even consider accusing a pilot of being under the influence of alcohol unless you have good reason for suspicion.


Sunday, November 4, 2012

NORDO - Out Of Radio Contact


NORDO is an aviation term referring to an aircraft that is unexpectedly out of radio contact...no radio.  As you might imagine, NORDO has taken on new meaning since the 9/11 terrorist attacks.   Not that it hasn't always been serious, but unusual or non existent radio contact was the first indication controllers working hijacked flights on 9/11 had that something wasn't right.  Few have forgotten that lesson.

A high profile NORDO event occurred in 2009 when Northwest Airlines Flight 188, an Airbus A320, went without radio contact for over 75 minutes.  To make matters worse, the pilots of this flight somehow managed to overfly their destination by 150 miles in spite of all the training, experience and technology available to them. In this case, it was a flight attendant calling the cockpit to find out why they hadn't started to descend who finally clued the cockpit into the fact that they had made a serious error. Both pilots not only lost their jobs, but we're eventually stripped of their pilots licenses by the United States Federal Aviation Administration.

   

The stakes are high in a business where errors in procedure and judgment can and do result in the loss of life.  It's important to learn from our mistakes; but unfortunately, since mistakes commonly result in punishment that could include time off from work, loss of pay and even suspension of revocation of a hard earned license, self-reporting would be rare without a program known as ASAP.

Pilots, dispatchers, mechanics and even flight attendants are invited to participate in a safety reporting program known as the Aviation Safety Action Program or ASAP.  The following is an excerpt from an FAA Advisory Circular published in 2002.  "The objective of ASAP is to encourage air carrier and repair station employees to voluntarily report safety information that may be critical to identifying potential precursors to accidents.  The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) has determined that identifying these precursors is essential to further reducing the already low accident rate.  Under an ASAP, safety issues are resolved through corrective action rather than through punishment or discipline.  The ASAP provides for the collection, analysis, and retention of the safety data that is obtained."

The program provides a system for gathering useful data that will be analysed for trending safety issues in exchange for a promise that unintentional mistakes will not be prosecuted.  Air Traffic Controllers have a similar self-reporting system known as ATSAP that works in much the same way. 

I know all this ASAP business is a little dry, but it's important and I'll come back to it.

On a recent flight, I was at the controls while the captain worked the radios and ran checklists. We were on an Air Traffic Control vector to intercept the final approach course in visual flight conditions when the approach controller got busy handling a problem with another aircraft. The other aircraft was returning to the airport with some sort of mechanical problem and was going to land opposite direction from the normal flow of traffic.

I could see the other aircraft, a small single engine Cessna, on the TCAS screen and made a mental note of its position relative to ours. We were about the same distance from the airport as the Cessna, but we were traveling well over twice its speed and would easily beat the small plane to the airport.  We were landing on different, but closely aligned runways and I didn't expect a conflict.

Normally, an approach controller will tell a pilot to call the tower on a specific frequency.  Sometimes the frequency is left out of the instruction, but it's helpful information, especially at an airport with multiple tower frequencies.  "Flight 123, contact tower on frequency 126.55."

As we descended through about 1,500 feet on the approach, I overheard a radio transmission that caught my attention and I realized we had not yet been switched over to the tower frequency.  The captain hadn't picked up on this, so I reminded him that we were still talking to approach.  Normally, if I haven't been switched over to the tower before about 2,000 feet above touchdown, I assume that the controller has forgotten to switch us over and will either transmit a gentle reminder or switch over on my own if the frequency is too congested to get a word in.  In this case, there was far too much confusion and verbal congestion on the approach frequency to request the handoff, so the captain elected to switch over on his own.

By the time we first called the tower, we were descending through 1,000 feet above touchdown.  This is where things got confusing and where we, as the flight crew, made a mistake.

We printed a copy of the ATIS (Automatic Terminal Information Service) about 30 minutes before landing. The ATIS informed us that the tower frequency had changed and provided a new frequency to be used. We made note of the change, but in the heat of the moment, the captain glanced down at his chart and dialed the inactive tower frequency into the #1 Comm radio. He called repeatedly, but the tower was monitoring another frequency and never heard his transmissions. In desperation, he tried the ground control and clearance delivery frequencies listed on the chart but for reasons unknown did not get an answer on those frequencies either.

By this point, we were descending through 300 feet above touchdown without a landing clearance. I considered going around, but then I remembered the Cessna.  I glanced at the TCAS and noted that the Cessna was now about three miles out and still appeared to be landing opposite direction. A go-around would have put us nose to nose...most likely with no radio contact. I visually scanned the runway and the taxiways around the runway and determined that the area was clear of traffic.  I told the captain that I intended to land unless he instructed me to go-around.  But before he could respond I glanced at the tower and noticed the green light.

Oddly enough, I had attended the annual AirVenture fly-in aviation convention in Oshkosh, Wisconsin just weeks earlier. I walked through the FAA's exhibit while I was there and happened to pick up a sticker entitled "Air Traffic Control - Light Gun Signals."  I placed the sticker, with no intention of ever needing it, inside the front cover of my Jepps binder.  I remembered that the signal for "cleared to land" was a solid green light. To be honest, this was information that I hadn't reviewed in many years.  The tower controller was watching.  He knew we were out of radio contact.  And he was using a light gun to clear us to land.


I almost missed the signal. It was dim and difficult to see and certainly would not have caught my attention if I had not looked directly at the tower, but it was the clearance we needed. As we passed through 50 feet above touchdown I started to reduce thrust, pulled slightly on the yoke and set the aircraft softly onto the runway. It's funny how clear things seem in hindsight   It wasn't until after touchdown that I realized what we had done.

Ugh...that sinking feeling in the pit of your gut.  No one likes to make mistakes, but I think pilots as a group are harder on themselves than most.  I think its just part of being a professional...we demand the best of ourselves at all times.

I'm about to get back to that ASAP thing...

Realizing our mistake, I reminded the captain about the frequency change and he made contact with the tower. I appreciated the kind words and reassuring tone from the controller...and I got the impression we hadn't been the first to make that particular error.  "No harm no foul" he said.  We asked if the ground and clearance frequencies were monitored and he indicated that they were.  I'm not sure why we hadn't been able to make contact on the other two frequencies.

After we completed the parking checklist, I called the tower on my cell phone and spoke to the controller who had worked our flight. The guy was understanding and affirmed our decision not to go-around.  I think the idea of us going nose to nose with the Cessna while unable to communicate scared him at least as much as it scared me.  He made it clear that the light gun signal was a legal clearance to land.  No violation would be filed.

I feel I should add this note about the phone call.  While I've done it a number of times, I have been told by people on the inside that a phone call to the tower could potentially lead to negative results.  Sometimes, especially at large airports, the phone may be answered by a supervisor, not the controller who worked your flight.  It is possible that the supervisor might not agree with the controller's assessment, so you could be outing yourself with the phone call.  Be careful out there folks, there are ample opportunities to make your life more complicated than it needs to be.

Now back to ASAP...

The stated purpose of the ASAP program is to learn from the errors we will inevitably make, and to improve the already increasingly safe skies over the United States.

As unfortunate as it may be, the word from an air traffic controller or Federal Inspector can't always be taken at face value.  It may not be intentional, but for a number of reasons, the decision to file a violation against a crew may be out of the hands of a well intentioned controller like the one I described here.  I'm sure he had no intention of reporting the event, but there are internal and external reviews in place that could override that decision.

For that reason, even though I still believe we had a legal landing clearance, I elected to file an ASAP report.  Unfortunately for the pilots of Northwest flight 188, the ASAP report did not save them from an inevitable outcome.  Personally, I disagree with that decision, but their mistake was too great and too public to be overlooked.  Mine on the other hand was quietly accepted into the program.  The event has by now been "collected, analysed, and retained" and will be tracked for a possible trend.

Hopefully, I won't be the only person who learns from my mistake.




Friday, October 5, 2012

New Livery for American Airlines?

For decades American Airlines has flown unpainted, polished aluminum airplanes. But that may soon change.  American’s livery has been in use since 1967, outlasting mergers, failures and shifting tastes across the industry. A new exterior also may mean dropping the signature bare-metal skin that dates to the era of propeller-driven airliners, which the airline has called a fuel-saver because an unpainted plane weighs less.

Months ago, American Chief Executive Tom Horton hinted at a meeting of corporate travel managers that a new logo and new paint scheme for jets are coming, likely as the company emerges from bankruptcy-court reorganization and tries to set a new course.  Given the events of the past month, emerging with a new image is as important as ever.

“This is going to be a new airline,’’ Mr. Horton said at the Global Business Travel Association convention in Boston. He was referring to American’s plans to emerge from bankruptcy as an independent carrier, not to an ongoing exploration and evaluation of a possible merger with US Airways or some other airline.  “ We're working on modernization of the American Airlines brand and we'll unveil something in the future. We're also thinking about the look of our airplanes,’’ Mr. Horton said. “Stay tuned on that.’’

Besides image and fuel savings, there’s a structural reason American is going to have to start painting its planes. The Boeing 787s American has on order don’t have aluminum skins, but are constructed with composite materials that are essentially super-strong plastics that must be painted. Large portions of the new Airbus planes American has ordered are also fabricated with composite materials.

Change is rarely easy and almost never pleases everyone.  But it's almost a certainty that American Airlines will emerge from bankruptcy looking much different than it does today.  Hopefully the change will be more than skin deep.

A quick google search produced a handful of creative ideas for what the "new" American may look like.  In no particular order.  Take a look and see what you think.  


















Thursday, September 30, 2010

An Unexpected Ferry

I was scheduled to finish my three day sequence by 8pm and, assuming all went as planned, should be relaxing at home by 9.  We started on Sunday afternoon with a pretty long 3 leg day and just under 8 hours of flying followed by a slightly shorter 2 leg day with just over 5 hours in the cockpit and finished up with one 3 hour leg home. We call these 3-2-1 trips and they’re usually difficult to get, especially for someone junior like me. Day three started out in Detroit, Michigan in a pretty nice hotel across the street from a mall with good restaurants and a movie theatre…not a bad layover. It was a nice fall day with rain in the morning and a cool cloudy afternoon. As a Texas boy, I appreciated a break from the heat and was happy that I had remembered to pack something warm.


We left Detroit on time, even though our jet came in a little behind schedule, and made good time with a tailwind of almost 120 knots for much of the flight. (The image above shows the wind in the bottom right hand corner as we approached St. Louis). About 30 minutes before landing, I sent a “changeover” report to the company. The changeover is an electronic report used to advise the company of our expected touchdown time so the ramp personnel know when to expect us. As usual, we got a printed response that listed our arrival gate and connecting gate information for the passengers and crew. This is the same gate information you hear the flight attendants read over the PA system during an arrival. Since this was the last leg of our trip, the words “No Crew Connect Info” were listed for the pilots and flight attendants. This was good news since it isn’t unusual to get a re-assignment at the end of a trip when the company is short of pilots and or flight attendants. As you can imagine, it is incredibly frustrating to be headed home with the family expecting you for dinner only to find out that you are needed for another day or two or work.

We landed on runway 35C at DFW and crossed 35L before contacting the ramp tower for taxi clearance to our gate. As we entered the ramp, we heard the words no pilot wants to hear in the last 5 minutes of a long trip…”1941 you need to call operations, they have a message for you.”

Long story short, 30 minutes later instead of sitting on the crew bus on my way to the parking lot, I was sitting in the right seat of an MD82 bound for our maintenance base in Tulsa, Oklahoma. We were probably drafted for the ferry assignment because we were conveniently arriving home when Crew Tracking realized they needed a couple pilots for an unscheduled flight. We were easy pickings.  Our assignment was to fly the jet, empty, to Tulsa, spend the night, and deadhead home in the morning on the first flight we were legal to take. If you consider that we spent a little over an hour in the cockpit and were paid 5 hours for the extra day, it really wasn’t such a bad deal.

The really interesting thing about the evening was how the aircraft flew when it was empty. On a normal flight, the maximum takeoff weight for an MD82 is 149,500 lbs…but minus 140 passengers, 3 flight attendants, catering and enough fuel for an average flight, the aircraft weighed just over 100,000 pounds as we pushed away from gate A26.

It was my leg and as we taxied out onto runway 35L for departure, the Captain told me he would help me steer around the corner and that I had the brakes and throttles. The tiller, or steering wheel, is located on the Captains side of the cockpit which leaves only the rudder pedals on my side to steer and the pedals don’t have enough authority to get around a sharp corner. There was a heavy UPS MD-11 taking off in front of us so I elected to come to a full stop on the runway and set takeoff thrust on the engines before releasing the brakes. We are actually required to do this if we come to a complete stop on the runway before being cleared for takeoff, but tonight I really just did it for rush of acceleration I was expecting. After being cleared for takeoff, I pushed the throttles up to about 1.4 EPR and allowed the engines to stabilize before calling for the auto-throttles to set takeoff power. Once we had achieved takeoff EPR, I released the brakes and felt acceleration like you rarely experience in an airliner. Without that extra 50,000 lbs, the aircraft accelerated to rotation speed in no time and as we reached V1 and VR I smoothly pulled the nose up to almost 25 degrees to maintain V2 (minimum flying speed) plus 20 knots for the first 1000 feet of our climb before accelerating to a normal climb speed.

In that first 1000 feet, the VSI (vertical speed indicator) was pegged out at 6000 fpm and as I lowered the nose and accelerated to 240 knots as per the departure procedure, our climb rate never got below 4000 fpm. Once established at 240 knots, we were able to maintain at least 5000 fpm all the way to 10,000 feet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an MD80 climb that fast and I was a little surprised the departure controller didn’t make a comment about how light we must be.

We made it to our cruise altitude in record time and had a few minutes at cruise to contemplate the most unpleasant part of flying a light airliner…the landing. I’ve been on the MD80 my entire airline career and don’t have anything to compare it to, but I can tell you that this aircraft is a bear to land when it’s light. Nothing feels normal…the controls are light and touchy and the engines don’t like the power band required to fly an approach at this weight so you always seem to have a little too much or not quite enough power.  The touchdown is often not a pretty sight. The struts are designed to withstand a hard landing at 130,000 pounds (the max landing weight for an MD82), so without the extra weight to smooth things out, the touchdown is either going to be a greaser or it’s going to hurt your back side…nothing in between. I began making excuses for the landing as we joined the final approach course. I’m a little tired…big bug on the window…sure are light tonight…joking of course, but excuses don’t count after the fact, so you have to make them early and often. My landing was smooth and while I would love to claim it was the result of great skill and experience, I must admit that it was more about luck than anything else as I actually misjudged the runway and touched down a little earlier than expected. The Captain made some off handed remark about a blind squirrel finding a nut every now and then. He was just jealous.

We cleared the runway to the east and got in behind a “follow me” truck that guided us to a parking spot on the maintenance ramp in unfamiliar and alarmingly dark territory. You can't see the wing tips on an MD80 from the cockpit, so taxiing through tight and unfamiliar locations, especially at night, can be a bit unnerving.  As we completed our parking and shut down checklists, a mechanic appeared in the cockpit behind us. He had lowered the aft stairs and walked up to greet us. He was a friendly guy and also our ride back to the terminal where we would catch the hotel van for our nights rest.

This was a fairly old jet, built in the mid 80s. At first I though maybe it was being moth-balled. We’re currently parking 2-3 MD80s per month as we replace our older equipment with newer and more efficient 737s. We were happy to learn that the old girl was just in need of a few inspections and would fly again soon…maybe just not this light.